Her Cloistered Heart
by Raekea
Summary: Based loosely upon the events of Dragon age 2.  Felicia Hawke lost many things to the Blight, her love among them. Rated M for Yaoi, Femslash, some reference to non-consensual sex acts, a lot of violence, etc. Please read and review!
1. Free Of a Sort

**I do not own Dragon Age. This is just a story I made up. Because I have a lot of spare time. And I like using too much punctuation. Muahahahahah...**

**^ Disclaimer**

**A/N:~ This story is loosely based on Dragon Age 2. As I play I will update. Hope you like!**

"We're finally out of service, Carver." Felicia said, twirling round in circles and smiling. "Doesn't it feel good?" Carver grimaced.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Fellah, we are far from 'free'. Thanks to your curse, we're constantly on the run from your templars. Not to mention the fact we have little money to stay in Kirkwall anymore." Fellah frowned at him.

"Must you be such a spoilsport, Carver? It is hardly my fault I was born with magic, much the same as it is not a mabari's fault it is born with four legs. Anyway, if they are 'my' templars, you needn't worry really, need you?" Her brother made a noise that was somewhere between a huff of acceptance and an apology.

"Fine. And keep your voice down. But it still doesn't solve our money problem, does it?"

"Maybe not. But I have a few... well one thing up my sleeve."

"And what is that, dear sister?"

"You'll see."

"Well that could have gone better, Felicia. Got a back up plan at all? Or are you just going to wait until we get turned into the templars, sold as slaves, or some other equally pleasant... _watch where you're going you little brat!_" A sudden lightness at her hip told Fellah something was amiss. She reached down to her thigh, and felt for her coinpurse.

"My purse! He's got it!" The siblings began to sprint after him, but it began to look as if they wouldn't catch up – the redheaded lad could run pretty fast. "_Come back here!_" The lad looked back momentarily, and that was his undoing. Before Felicia and Carver could even blink, the lad was pinned up against a wall with an arrow in one arm. He whimpered.

Carver started to draw his sword in anticipation of more arrows, but Felicia put a hand on his sword arm, stopping him. They watched as a stout dwarf (with chest hair in abundance) came into view with a rather impressive crossbow.

He muttered a brief exchange to the lad that neither Felicia or Carver could hear, then pulled the arrow out of his arm, but not before grabbing the coinpurse off him. Walking over to the siblings, he tossed the purse to Felicia, who caught it with ease. He grinned, an easy smile with more than a hint of cunning.

"Doesn't know who he's dealing with."

"And you do?" Carver replied with more than a hint of hostility.

"Ah, but I do. The lovely lady Hawke, whom I have heard so many tales about." Carver pouted, and Felicia tried to defuse the situation before it became yet another Carver – V – Hawke incident.

"What about my brother Carver? Surely you have heard of him too?"

"Can't say I have, other than as your brother. No offence, er... Carver. You look like you can sure handle a sword."

Carver rolled his eyes and sulked further.

"Anyway." _Let's change the subject..._ "You're Bartrand's brother, aren't you? The dwarf who's doing the Deep Roads expedition?" The dwarf bowed.

"The very same. Varric Tethras, at your service. I was hoping I could talk to you about that, actually. Bartrand's a proud sod, but he won't not accept help when he needs it... _if_ he thinks there's a profit involved."

"Profit? I see. So are you suggesting we _pay_ him for the privilege to battle darkspawn?" Varric chuckled.  
"Nothing of the sort, I assure you. I'm suggesting you pay him for the privilege to be a partner on the trip – that way, as long as you don't die, he's got an incentive and so have you."

"And if I do?"

"I was rather hoping it wouldn't come to that, reputation you've got yourself around her already." Felicia smiled.

"How much do you think it will take to win him over?"

"Ah, it always boils down to the price, doesn't it?" Varric smiled. "How about we discuss this over a pint? The Hanged Man, Lowtown. You know it?"

"Can't say I do. But Carver knows it well." Felicia said, grinning.

"What are you implying?" Carver shot back.

"Nothing I'm sure."

"Ladies, put the handbags away." Varric quipped. "I shall see you there at nightfall. We can discuss the price and the terms then."

"We really need to get back to that dwarf." Carver moaned. "We don't want him to go back on the deal, do we?"

"No, we certainly do not." whispered Felicia. "But then," she made Carver jump as she shot a spell at a thug that had arrived out of nowhere, "We don't exactly want to let the guards get away with this corruption either, do we?"

The pair waded into the fray with Aveline, and the siblings continued to bicker throughout the final fight.

"This is not about corruption, this about money!" Carver shouted as he sliced through a mercenary's head with his sword. "We'e already delivered bloody wine to elves today, delivered some kind of granny shawl to... a granny, taken a load of old bones to the Chantry for some boring old bookmaker to catalogue the woman's death, and now we're bloody hunting mercenaries we probably shouldn't be!" He stabbed particularly viciously into a spider's abdomen, spurting green blood everywhere in its death throes, and pulled the sword out just in time to slice another bandit's arms off his torso. "Are there any other pissing errands we have to do? Maybe hang some crippled elf's washing out to dry? Spoon feed a beggar?" Felicia turned round, magic still washing off her in waves from the recent battle, and fury in her eyes.

"Is being _nice_ really that hard for you? Besides, we're making coin, is that not what you want?" Carver growled, and stomped off on his own. Aveline watched the heated deabte with interest, and mild distaste.

"Will he be safe on his own in that mood, I wonder?" She questioned Fellah.

"He'll be fine. We've cleared out every threat in this place. Unfortunately. A good chewing from a hurlock might do him some good."

"Your brother not with you?"

"He and I had a … slight disagreement."

"I see. So... we were talking about price, were we not?" Varric said, leaning back in his chair.

"That and the overall plan, yes. What is the plan, come to think of it? How can we make sure we will get in and out again safely?"

"Ah, of course. Nothing is certain, of course, so do not take any guarantees by my word, Hawke. But the darkspawn are scarce so soon after a Blight – we will not have this opportunity again. We're all geared up and ready to go, but.. there is one problem." Felicia looked suspicious.

"Which is?"

"The entrance – we don't know where to get in. Bartrand had on all lined up, but that turned out to be a flop. Your task – find some maps of the Deep Road. As for the price – fifty sovereigns."

"Maps of the Deep Roads... How in the Maker's name am I meant to... did you just say _fifty_ sovereigns? You do understand the reason we are taking this job is to _gain_ cash, right?"

"And you will. Trust me, my brother is not an easy man to bargain with. It was a hard time trying to cut him down from seventy. As for the maps, there was a Grey Warden about town not so long ago. If you ask around, he might have some knowledge of the Deep Roads. Maybe he could help." Felicia sighed.

"Very well. I shall find the Warden as soon I find the time. I have a lot of sovereigns to raise.

_**A/N: ~ Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! It's my first DA fanfic, so be gentle! **_


	2. You Let My Twin Die

"I really should stop putting off seeing that Grey Warden." Carver nodded.

"Yes. You should. We have money to raise indeed, but we'll never get anywhere with it if we have no entrance into the Deep Roads. Why don't you send the elf out to do the errands instead?"

"Send Merrill out in this city? Because an elf mage would last so long out and about on her own before she got either arrested or killed, wouldn't she?" Felicia said sarcastically. Carver bristled.

"It was only a suggestion. Besides, one less blood mage in this world is probably a good thing!" Felicia turned round to yell at him, then realised she was in a crowd with many possibly intent gossips.

"She is what she is." she hissed. "It does not mean she is a bad person. Misguided, perhaps. Evil? No."

"That's what you think so far. Wait until she turns us into frogs in our sleep. You're probably only protecting her because you want to screw her!" Felicia growled.

"Carver, I have just about had enough of you! I do not want to "_screw her_", as you so delicately put it, I see her as a friend. She is no... she is just not _her,_ alright? I am sorry I snapped at you, I did not mean to cause offence. But why must you keep insisting that all mages are evil and abominations? Can we not cause some good in this world, can we not help others? Look at what I did for Aveline – now she's guard captain, we'll be much better off, we shall save lives."

"That may be so. But you did not save Bethany's life. Did you? You could have saved her. You could have saved my sister, and you let her die." Felicia stood still as if she had been slapped.

"Merrill had better watch out. You seem to have a habit of letting the women you're "_close to_" die, romantic interests or not. I just wish one of them hadn't been the sister I actually gave a shit about."

_**A/N: ~ Oohh, who was Hawke's previous love interest? *suspense* ...Erm yea sorry for short chapter. I hate chapters... DAMN THEM! ...I'm not weird. -hides in corner-**_


	3. I really need to stop thinking of her

Carver had been avoiding her for the past few days, and she didn't exactly feel like seeing him either. She supposed she had really better get to looking for the Grey Warden... If Felicia was honest with herself, she had been deliberately putting it off. Being stuck in a deep darkspawn-filled pit wasn't exactly fun, even less so with her irritating, self-righteous little brother by her side 24/7. She supposed he had a point though... About Bethany. Her little sister had always been the weaker mage, and she... she should have walked in front, not her.

And on top of the darkspawn and Carver being... well, Carver, there was the fact she didn't know if this man could be trusted. Grey Wardens were meant to be neutral, she knew that much. She had been lucky so far with Merrill, Carver and Aveline – Aveline saw her as a person, not a mage, and Merrill – well, blood mage or no, she understood her plight. And even Carver didn't dislike her enough to turn her in to the templars. But what if this man did? Neutral politically or no, she really didn't need more bigots knowing who and what she was. Would he take it upon himself to inform the Chantry or the templars? Would he see it as his 'duty'?

Argh. Felicia shook her head to clear it. That was something she'd have to endure, if only to get the maps. He might not realise she was a mage anyway... Well, you could hope.

Who was she kidding? She had to admit it, she hated talking to men – human ones at least. She knew it was a stereotype, and she hated herself for it. She was fine with the elves – usually they either despised 'shemlen', or were too afraid of them to flirt. They knew of oppression too, so she could identify with them, even the male ones. She was even fine with the dwarves – they never seemed to try anything, and even on the rare occasion one did they would not be surprised by the rebuffal – inter-species relationships were mostly rare in Thedas. Although the dwarves had tried their luck a lot more since the Hero of Ferelden eloped with the Orlesian bard, Leliana. A female dwarf, and a female human – virtually unheard of. She respected them for their courage – she was good in a fight, she was courageous, usually moral, and brave. But the only person she had ever told about her attraction to women was Bethany... Even Carver had overheard the conversation, she would never have told him voluntarily. Mainly because he had reacted like he did... It took a lot of persuasion for him not to tell mother, but eventually he had more or less accepted it – albeit with a slight level of revulsion.

"Urgh. So that's why you see her so much." he had remarked afterwards, a grimace on his face. She had cried that night. They had never got on since.

Hawke started to daydream... Whenever she thought of this, she thought of her. Her shoulder-length black hair, usually tied in pigtails, especially when she was concentrating. Her sweet lips, the way they parted slightly when she was concentrating, always making Felicia want to run over and stop her concentrating, to... to...

"That's enough of that!" Fellah said out loud, catching a few strange looks from passers-by.

She needed to forget, to lose herself in work. She would go and find this Grey Warden, she would get the maps, and she would go to the Deep Roads.

Because one thing was for sure – she would never fall prey to the wolf that was love again.

_**A/N: ~ Hope you like! So yes, a slight lesbian stereotype for Felicia Hawke. It's not that she hates men... she has good reason to be afraid, don't worry! :P If this offends anyone, I apologise. As a bi young lady myself, I mean to cause no offence. This is a story about coming out of the closet – from the other side. Please read and review!**_


	4. Finally getting some answers

She decided to go alone. Perhaps not the wisest idea, but she needed some space. Carver would just tease, Aveline was too busy, and Merrill... well she had a nasty suspicion the girl had a crush on her. She would have taken Varric, but that dwarf was too much of a people person, and she just knew he'd find out if she kept him around too much – he'd use it as material for his stories. As she walked into the bar, she steeled herself. _He was just a person, one that happened to be male. He wasn't that monster, that utter bastard of a Ferelden noble. But... what if he was? The Wardens accepted trash and treasure into their ranks, it was well-known there was no questions asked. She had not heard news from Ferelden about him in over a year... what if..._

"**Stop it!** She screamed at herself, and everyone stopped in the street and stared. Embarrassed, she went into the pub.

"If you need medical assistance," the bored looking woman at the bar that had been turned into a makeshift medicine storage rack, "Then I'm afraid the healer has gone. He'll be back another day, unless it's urgent, we are very busy." Hawke gathered herself.

"I'm looking for the Grey Warden. Have you any idea where he is?"

The woman had been extremely unhelpful, and Felicia was sure she was hiding something. She kept saying that the Grey Warden was the only healer they had, and she didn't want people bothering him. An idea had suddenly struck Hawke at the sight of an empty lyrium bottle, half-hidden underneath a variety of poultices. She bent down and picked it up. "Lyrium... A used bottle at that. What would your healer be doing with this?"

A look of utter panic crossed the woman's face, and Felicia had known her guess was right – the Warden was a mage too!

"Please... don't turn him into the templars. He's the only healer we've got." Felicia smiled at her, made sure no-one could see, then started a spark of fire in her hands. The woman's eyes widened.

"I won't, trust me. Now please. Tell me where the Warden is."

_**A/N: ~ Sorry, sorry, very very short! I assure you I have already started the next chapter though! I just have trouble moving on from a different subject... -growls- Anyway, hope you like!**_


	5. Flashback

Felicia walked up the steps towards the clinic the woman had given her directions to. _He was a mage, and a healer, he should be an alright sort. And as he was a mage, he wouldn't... wouldn't be him. But... the filth whose name she wouldn't speak, his men had mages amongst them, and this man was also apparently a Ferelden refugee. What if he had been the one who hurt her Sweetheart? Travelled to Kirkwall to escape the law, on the run from justice, for crimes that... for... _

Felicia realised too late that she was already at the clinic, and was not prepared for what happened next. The Warden she had been seeking drew his staff, and aimed it at her, anger radiating off him in waves.

"Who are you?" He said, noting her armour and bladed staff, which was at first glance not apparent as a staff – it had to be to keep the templars off her back. "I do not allow weapons in this clinic. Drop your weapons immediately, or I will be forced to..."

_I will be forced to kill you if you persist. _Her eyes unfocused as she slipped into the past, something she thought she had left behind. She was dimly aware of the Grey Warden coming closer and asking her if she worked for the templars, but by then she was lost. "_What are you doing here girl?"_ _Memories of soldiers pushing her roughly overwhelmed her, until one of them, a traitor from her love's own men, recognised her._

_ "This is her. The Lady's little slut." he sneered._

_ "What are you doing?" she screamed, unsure if she said it from her mouth or just her mind, as the soldier's hand crept to her breast, the other hand holding a knife to her throat. _

_ "Only what I'm sure Lady Cousland's done a thousand times before." he smirked. "Common little slut, don't know what she saw in you." The past sense did not escape her._

_ "Where is she?" she yelped. "Elissa will not stand for this, you will hang if you persist!" The soldier laughed._

_ "Quite a righteous one, isn't she? We'll have fun breaking this little dyke, won't we lads? Just like we broke Bryce's little slut."_

_ Suddenly the blood on their clothes came to her attention, and she gasped._

_ "No!"_

_ "That's exactly what your little friend said. At first, anyway. After a while she started enjoying herself... even stopped screaming for you after we slit her throat. Now... who's having first dibs? If no-one minds I..." She drew her staff from her back, but before she could let loose the cascade of fire that she __**knew,**__she __**remembered**__, killed those men, before she could run upstairs to find her lover's blood-soaked body, along with those of her nephew, mother, father, and the rest of the castle staff..._

"**Oh no you don't!**_" _came a low growl, and the Warden brought her back to reality with a jolt and a burst of electricity. She shuddered, as spasms racked her body, and let out a heart-wrenching scream for her lost love, just as the Warden knocked her out with the end of his staff.

**So what do you think? Please review, it keeps me writing! :) Hope you like anyway. I know this is AU, but yea... I'm basing it only loosely on the main story.**

**Nom nom nom Anders. XD**


	6. Self Defence of a sort

Anders looked round to see a beautiful woman come in through the door of the clinic_. _He took note first of her shapely hips and figure, then berated himself silently. _Stop letching on women. You're not safe relationship material any more, remember?_ He laughed under his breath. _Not that he ever had been._ Distracted by the brunette woman's features, he suddenly noticed the spear on her back, which startled him. _Anyone who was referred her by one of his patrons knew the no-weapons rule... She could be trouble._

"Who are you?" he asked warily, his hackles already rising. He looked over her light armour and bladed spear. "I do not allow weapons in this clinic. Drop your weapons immediately, or I will be forced to..." he didn't finish her sentence, as her reaction startled him. She looked disorientated, much like some of those with illnesses of the mind that he sometimes saw. "Are you with the templars?" he spat at her. "Have you not had enough of tormenting us mages?"

"What are you doing?" She screamed at him.

"Nothing yet," he replied, angry. "But trust me, unless I get answers I will." She appeared not to hear him, but she looked scared. He backed off a little, but not too much – this could be a trick. Her eyes moving from one part of the air to another, never stopping, until she focused on him at last. Her face filled with fury, anger, and something Anders couldn't quite place.

"What do you want? If you go now, and if you give me answers, I will let you live, but if not, I value my freedom too much." Again, she didn't answer. "_**Answer me!**_" Anders spat at the strange woman.

_"No!"_ She screamed out loud, and drew her spear.

"**Oh no you don't!**_" _Anders yelled, and drew his staff, shooting electricity at her. She staggered, and he knocked her out with the bottom of his staff. She fell to a crumpled heap on the floor, the spear clattering from her hands. Anders kicked it away, and dragged her not-so-gently to the back of his clinic. _Thank God he hadn't had many patrons today..._

He closed the door to the clinic, and tied her up with magical bonds.

Healing her enough that she wouldn't get a concussion, but not enough that she wouldn't be in pain, he sat down next to the troubled young woman. Now he would wait for her to wake. And he would get answers.

**Hope you like! Please review! So Anders has been kind of pissy, but then he doesn't realise she's a mage and thinks the templars sent her... So he has good reason to be. Hope it's not OOC!**


	7. Reliving Memories

Even in dreams, she was not safe from the horrors of that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she relived it. The Fade mocked her – even awake as she was in the Fade, she relived it. Now was no exception.

Walking through the dream world, tears poured silently down her face as she ran through that day again, even though she _knew_ it was demons and spirits mocking her, playing on her insecurities to try and gain access to the mortal world... It didn't hurt any less. The quicker she went through it, the quicker it would be over. And it always... always started with the argument.

"_I... I can't live here, Issa! I.. what if your parents find out what I am? I'll be sent to the Circle!"_

_ "I don't care what you are, Felle! And neither will they! Please, I... I've come out to my parents. They know we're going out, and they really don't mind. Neither would yours! We can live together, there's nothing in the laws to say a Teryna can't marry who she likes, woman or no. Fergus has already said he doesn't want the responsibility, we could adopt, we could be together! Like we always wanted to be!" Felicia had sat up in the bed, where they had so recently made love. _

_ "You __**told**__ your parents? Without __**asking**__ me? But... tell me you're joking?" Elissa had looked uncomfortable._

_ "But... they didn't mind. I knew they wouldn't!"_

_ "Not for __**sure**__ you didn't! And... oh Maker, what if my mother finds out?" At this, Elissa bristled._

_ "Are you that ashamed of me? That we must constantly hide, scurry around like we're doing something wrong? By __**loving**__each other?"_

_ "Issa, you know it's nothing like that..."_

_ "Then why hide me? Why can't we declare our love to the world?"_

_ "It's not that simple..."_

_ "That's what you __**always**__ say!" Elissa had said, tears falling silently from the corners of her eyes. "Maker, I'm sorry..." Felicia had leaned over and kissed her._

_ "No, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have snapped. I'm going for a walk around the grounds. I think we both need some alone time."_

After that, she had done as she said, worrying all the more steps away from the castle she took. Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland were lovely people, but... they were bound to talk. She had walked in a daze until she got to the castle doors, which were now closed. She smiled absent-mindedly at Arl Howe's men, a known friend to Elissa's family, but they had barred her entry.

She had seen red, and she killed them, the lot of them. But she had had no time to feel guilt, she had ran, as fast as her legs could carry her, through the bloodstained courtyard, slipping and almost falling in the gore, _and the blood, so much blood, and in her haste she had gone into Fergus's room, and seen the tiny body on the floor of Oren, an innocent child, and his mother, maimed and killed. They were not taking prisoners, oh Maker, oh Maker, she had to find her, before.. no that would not happen, no... _

She had run through the courtyard to the kitchen where there was an escape route, taking out every **bastard** soldier she saw, _**they would not have her, they would not have her, **__into the kitchen, where the bodies of Nan and the elves were, the woman who had been like her own Grandmother, but she didn't care, she couldn't care, she was looking for one body... No! Not one body, one girl, one life, one love, one... Her eyes had travelled over the bodies of Teyrn Cousland and Teyrna Cousland, Eleanor and Bryce, and... and... Oh Maker._

She was there. Amongst the bloodstained corpses, she was there, not breathing, _well how could she be breathing with her throat slit_, _as if her pale white skin was not a treasure, as if she was not worth more than the castle's weight in gold, as if she..._ _Oh Maker._

She had closed her staring eyes, and smoothed out her rumpled clothes, and she had held her. Covered with blood, grime and tears, she held her. And she would never have let go, would have stayed there until the soldiers came and killed her, until she heard a familiar voice.

"I'm sorry Felicia." said a strained voice. "She turned and saw that Eleanor was not yet dead, but pretty close to. "I know you loved her, and she loved you. And for what it's worth," She stopped and coughed, "You... you had mine and Bryce's blessing. She will always love you, dear child. But I hear the soldiers now, they come close. Please, take the exit out of here. The world must know, for..." She stifled a sob "For my daughter's sake. Fergus must know. Know what Howe did. Take the tunnel, it exits several places, but keep left at every turn, and you'll come out near Amaranthine. I know you have relatives there dear, and even if you can't access them, get home. They don't know where you live, or even really who you are, you will be thoroughly safe."

"I can't leave her!" Felicia sobbed, holding her murdered love in her arms.

"She would not want you to give up your life for her. She would not... want your love to mean nothing."

And so Felicia had left via the tunnel, gone back home, covered in other peoples' blood, and since then she had sworn she would never love again.

But this was just a dream, real as it felt. There was always a demon at the end, whether one that told her it would bring her love back for one more night, forever, or one that simply pretended to be her.

...As if they could attempt to act out her beauty... She was, and would always be, a noble in every sense of the word. Now she just had to refuse the demon, and then she would awake, screaming and crying as usual.


	8. Apostates Together?

She took a long while to awake. Anders sat there not-so-patiently, waiting for answers. After a while, she got up to get her spear, and burn it. He picked it up, and lobbed it in the air, making it hover there with a certain glyph. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a steady stream of fire at the spear, expecting the metal to melt, and the wood to burn into ashes. Instead, the spear clattered to the floor and stayed there, resisting all the offensive magic, and the glyph as well. He blinked. It... resisted magic? Shit. Oh, shit. Walking warily over to the spear, whilst keeping an eye on the mystery woman at the same time, he picked it up. It was cool to the touch, and vibrated slightly at his touch.

"Damn it..." He murmured to himself. "Unless the templars are sending mages to do their work... which I doubt, she's an apostate too... Then why was she here?"

His thoughts were interrupted by a rattling from behind him, and he turned to see the young woman spasming in her invisible bonds. Though she seemed to be unconscious, her eyes were open and glowing slightly blue, and her hands emitted sparks.

"Oh Maker... No... Please, no."

_Don't say his treatment of the young mage had turned her to seek a demon's help... _He thought back to what he'd said, and went pale. _He had technically threatened her life. Shit! Oh holy Maker, the last thing he needed was __**more**__ abominations on his hands. _

He headed towards the young woman, and tried his best to bring her back with words, but she wasn't responding. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he tried to pull her back into the mortal world with healing magic, but before he could attempt it, an electric shock went through him, and he crumpled to the floor, voiding the young woman's bonds and causing her to land next to him in a similarly boneless heap.


	9. The Beginning to Healing our Hearts

Eventually, she awoke, and briefly her mind flicked to the demon that had almost possessed her.

_It had looked so much like her... As if it actually was her. It had her essence, her smell... This was not a demon. This was a spirit of Compassion. Rarely seen by most mages, it had been attracted by her sweet memories of Elissa and herself, even though they were tainted by pain._

_ It had tried to help her, help her to pass on. And she had agreed. Too late the realisation this could be a trick kicked in, yet she didn't care. She wanted to die, to see Issa again. She had no ties with the world anymore – mother still had Carver._

_But then she had felt a burn, a cold burn that hurt more than anything she had felt on her shoulder, and she fought against the Compassion spirit entering her body and swapping their spirits, Maker knows why, as the last few years she had wanted nothing more than to die and be reunited with her. _

She was back now, and her body racked with sobs at how close she had been to seeing her lost love. Suddenly, she felt a hand at her side, touching her thigh. She froze, and turned round slowly, half expecting a demon or shade to be there.

Instead, there was the Warden from earlier, and it all came flooding back.

_I drew my staff... he must have thought I was going to attack_. Exhausted from the ordeal, she almost fell asleep, until she noticed the Warden was unconscious. Limited though her skills with healing magic were, she healed his electricity exit and entry points, and cleared up his burns and bruises. Exhausted, she fell asleep.


	10. Favour for a Favour

"I am sorry. I did not think you to be another mage – another apostate at that. Forgive me for reacting so hastily – I am constantly at risk from the templars, so I must be careful."

Anders extended a hand to the dazed Felicia, and helped her up. "Thank you for healing me, by the way." Felicia gaped at him for a while, trying to catch her bearings. Eventually she gathered her thoughts.

"Err... you're welcome. I... are you the Grey Warden?"

"Former Grey Warden, yes. I go by Anders, rather than Warden though." he smirked. Felicia nodded.

"Of course. My name is Felicia. I'm on an expedition to the Deep Roads. Despite the fact we've only just met, and we seem to have tried to kill each other already... I don't suppose you have any idea where a good entrance would be, do you? I could pay you an amount of coin for your time, and a part of the profits when we get back." Anders began to shake his head, then paused.

"Payment doesn't really have any appeal, I have enough to get by with. Unless... A favour for a favour? How about that?"

"Yes."

"Yes?" Anders smiled. "Just like that? You don't even know what the favour is yet."

"..Within reason, whatever it is, yes. I desperately need to get on this expedition."

"Hopefully this will be 'within your reason' then. My... friend. A mage, also from the Ferelden circle. He has been captured by the templars, and I believe him to be in danger. I must rescue him, but I cannot do it without help. If you help me, I can give you maps of the Deep Roads with several entry and exit points." Felicia's face lit up, and she smiled the first true smile she had smiled since Bethany died.

"Brilliant! Thank you Anders. When and where do you want me?"

_Oh the things I could say to that... _Anders chose wisely not to say this out loud – the more Justice-dominated parts of his mind would not have approved anyway.

"Shall we say nightfall at the entrance to the Chantry?"

"Nightfall at the Chantry it is."


	11. Revelations and Abominations

"Well... that could have gone better." Felicia mused to herself under her breath as she fretted about the outcome of Anders' 'rescue' quest. It had been a trap – his friend had been made Tranquil. She shuddered. Somehow seeing the friend of a friend being made Tranquil... It made the danger all the more real.

_...Since when did Anders suddenly become a friend? _Before she could carry on with this train of thought, Gamlen's nasally pitched voice interrupted her.

"Stop your daughter from pacing, Leandra, or I'll feed her to the rats!"

"We have _**rats**_? Gamlen, you told me you had taken care of those!"

"...Balls."

Felicia left Mother and Gamlen to sort out their differences (and rats) with the aid of Fluffy the Mabari. Carver hated the dog's name with a vengeance, but Bethany and Felicia had always found it funny, while Mother and Father looked on with silent (although loving) exasperation.

Father... How she missed him. At least Bethany and Father were at peace with the Maker now. He had been a good father, no-one could accuse him of being otherwise. One day he had just caught a chill, gone to bed telling his family he'd sleep it off... And he never woke up. Felicia and Bethany had both tried to heal him, but to no avail. He had passed away, leaving his children heartbroken, and Mother... Well Mother had been shattered. It had taken three years to coax her out of her shell again... Only to have it all ruined by the nug-humping Blight, to steal a phrase from Varric...

Fellah looked up to find to her surprise she was at Anders' clinic – her feet seemed to have just taken her there.

_I suppose I still need to get those maps off him. Well, might as well do it now._

She made sure to knock this time, as she didn't want a repeat of the first time they met. They had not mentioned that first meeting again, although Felicia wondered about the coldness on her arm that still niggled at her. She snapped her attention to Anders, who was apparently closing up the clinic for lunch.

"Anders, could I have a word?" He jumped slightly, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"...Felicia? What are you... Ah, the maps. I'll get them for you... Damn where did I put the Blight-Buggered things?" Anders was obviously very distressed, and Felicia felt a stab of sympathy to this poor mage. Then she remembered the devastating blue of hugely destructive magic Anders had let loose in the Chantry, and decided he could more than look after himself.

Still...

He looked so sad.

She walked up to him tentatively, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Anders, I know what you must be going through right now, to lose a friend like that. It must be..." Anders shrugged her hand off his shoulder, and glared at her.

"I highly doubt you do know what I'm going through. Karl was... my first. I thought I loved him, at one point. I still did, a little bit. When I see templars now, things that have always outraged me, but I could never do anything about... It makes my blood boil. And..."

Felicia was vaguely aware of Anders saying something about abominations, spirits of Justice being trapped outside the Fade, and how he fit into the two categories rather neatly. Suddenly, however, things seemed to have all clicked into place.

_Karl had been his first... Then he was like her. She had never met a man like her before. Maybe this was the reason why she wasn't afraid of him, he had absolutely no interest in her!_

Smiling deeply, Fellah decided she was safe enough with this Warden, and proceeded to do what she did to the few people that she felt safe with that had always got her in trouble with Issa – shamelessly and meaninglessly flirt with them.

"So that explains your whole sexy tortured look, then?" Anders blinked at her, seemingly confused.

"...I must obviously learn to check a looking glass more often."


	12. Healing and Hatred

"We'd better hurry to the Docks. Feynriel doesn't have a chance against those slavers!" Anders yelled to Felicia.

"I'd go quicker," Felicia quipped back, "But I think a haste spell would be too much for me to handle considering I have.. _argh_," she dodged an arrow, "Practically all my mana occupied holding these Carta back at the moment!" Anders nodded as he cleaved the head off the shoulders of an unfortunate dwarven Carta thug with a short blast of ice. Blood and gore spattered everywhere. Felicia wiped the gore out of her eyes, just in time to hear a scream and a choking sound.

"Daisy!" Varric bellowed.

"Merrill!" Felicia yelled. They swept through the crowd of Carta, finishing off the last few stragglers and crushing all in their way. Varric was the first to get to her, hastily pouring a potion down her throat, and applying a poultice over one of the gaping wounds.

"Ah, ah shit... No potions left..." Before Felicia could finish her train of thought, Anders was there, like a knight, albeit in feathery robes rather than shining armour. With a look of intense concentration on his face, he placed his hands over Merrill's deepest wound, and the flesh miraculously began to knit back together. Merrill gasped and spluttered back into life. Felicia dared to breath again, and hugged Anders gratefully for his quick thinking, not noticing the blush that spread across his cheeks. Helping Merrill up, and searching the enemy bodies for potions, gold and other loot, they went on to find Feynriel.

After bringing news of Feynriel's safety, and that he had gone to stay with the Dalish to master his powers, Felicia had taken the letter from his daughter to the templar called Thrask. She had assured him that his secret would be kept, and left the Gallows before the watchful eyes of the Templars strayed to her.

A week or so passed, and Felicia sunk into her usual depression when she had nothing to do. She was still shook up over the injuries Merrill had received – if Anders hadn't been there, who knows what could have happened. Felicia made up her mind – she had a simple find and deliver to do – she just needed to find a merchant called Anso. She would invite Anders along with her and he could help her develop her healing magic.

"Maker's left man breast, this isn't going well!" Felicia cursed as she and Anders tried to dispatch the umpteenth mercenary.

She had received surprisingly little trouble in Darktown on the way to Anders' clinic – just the usual catcalls, obscenities, and leers, but those were a part of Darktown as much as the poverty-stricken refugees and the stench of sewers. She was glad of the lack of trouble on the way to meet Anders now, because she didn't have enough potions and she was pretty sure her left arm was broken from trying to block the hit of a shield.

"Can you see an end to them yet?" Anders yelled to her from across the other side of the Alienage. Ducking the blow of a dagger, she turned to answer him, and that was her undoing. A lick of fire and a sharp pain to the back of her head was exruciating, and then the world went fuzzy.

"Felicia!" Anders bellowed. He was briefly aware of Justice taking over in his rage,and the next thing he knew, Merrill was sat next to him tapping him repeatedly, her attempt at waking him out of his stupor.

"Anders! Anders, wake up. Please wake up! Hawke is... she's not dead is she? Oh please tell me she's not dead, Creators, I tried to take her pulse and I called for Varric but he's not here yet, and Anders wake up, I don't know any healing magic, I tried, but all it did was create a small lightning storm over my head, and now my head is wet, and **please** Anders wake up."

At the sensation of Merrill's little raincloud dripping onto his head, Anders groggily sat up to see that all the men were dead. He looked over to Felicia, panic in his eyes, and started to run towards her, already noting the white-haired man leaning over her, presumably trying to loot her body. He threw a stonefist at the looter, and knelt next to Felicia, starting to heal her wounds. He was aware of a sharp intake of breath from the man (elf, actually) next to him, who has some kind of tribal markings all over his body... They sparkled and glowed... could that be lyrium?

"Filthy mages..." the elf growled, and Anders' eyes glowed blue.

"Do not judge, if you wish to live." He growled, part of the Fade coming through to this world, the air around him shimmering and his voice distorted slightly. "Why were you looting her, yet you do not wear the colours of those mercenaries?" He found a weak pulse, and pushed all his power into strengthening it, mending broken bones and fusing severed skin.

The markings glowed blue, and the elf's eyes flashed.

"The woman was about to die. She was the one who helped get rid of those slavers. I thought the least I could do was administer the potions she had on her person whilst you ran around playing the blue demon, _mage_." He spat at Anders, somehow making the word mage more offensive than the word demon.

"Fine. I believe you... For now. Help me take her back to her uncle's house, if you truly are the good citizen you say." The elf's piercing eyes looked into his, narrowed.

"Do not let it be known that I am not a man of my word, abomination or no. I will take her back, and you will tell her if she recovers, that I await her in Hightown. I have a... business proposition."


	13. Sick Beds and Snogging

When Felicia awoke in her bedroom at Gamlen's house, Carver's sarcastic drawl was the first thing she heard.

"Mother, your prodigal daughter has finally woken up. At last, you can have someone to fuss over again." The second thing she heard was her Mother's relieved shout of;

"Thank the Maker! Carver, shoo, give your sister some space."

"...Cause it's not like it's my bedroom too or anything." Carver grumbled as he left the house. "I'm off to the Hanged Man, call me when you remember you have more than one child..." Leandra stared reproachfully at Carver's idea of a joke, and he grinned. "Fine, fine. Glad you're awake Fell."

Felicia's mother bustled in, carrying a tray of tea, and what looked like a week's supply of biscuits.

"Mother?" Fellah mumbled, and her mouth felt like it was full of gravel. "Uhgh... How, what...?" Leandra shushed Felicia, and sat on the bed.

"Shush dear, have some tea. I must say, you were quite a mess when that elf and.. Anders? Is that his name? Anyway, they carried you in here, and Anders did a good job healing you over the past three days. You've patched up very nicely. He's due any minute now actually, to check on your progress."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. "That must be him now." Leandra smiled at Felicia and put the tray down on the bed. "Drink your tea dear, I'll go and let him in." Leandra bustled off to open the door, and Felicia picked up the elfroot tea and started drinking it.

_Three days. She'd been unconscious for three whole days? Wow she would have some catching up to do – money for the Deep Roads expedition didn't find itself._

There was a knock on the door, interrupting her thoughts. "Come in." Felicia croaked out. The door creaked open and Anders walked in. He smiled, and Felicia got butterflies.

"Feeling better?" Anders asked.

"I think so... What happened? I don't remember much. I don't even really remember getting hurt." Anders cocked his head to one side and looked at her.

"That's hardly surprising, considering the damage you took. Let me check you over." Anders sat on the bed, moving the tray of tea aside. Leaning in close to Felicia, he checked her pupils. Fellah blushed despite herself. Nodding, apparently satisfied with what he saw, Anders checked her dressings and wounds.

"Doesn't look like there will be major scarring. You're lucky that elf was there as well."

"What elf?"

"The mage-hater, Fenri... Ah that's right I'd better fill you in on all that's been happening the past few days. We've got a couple of new additions to the Hawke Brigade. Varric's been taking care of things." Hawke laughed.

"The Hawke Brigade? Anders smiled.

"As I said, Varric's been taking care of things." Felicia sat and listened as Anders told her about Fenris, and the pirate Isabella. Varric had rallied everyone around to help the two strays (With the excuse; I'm only doing what Hawke would want, can't you do that for a poor ill damsel in distress?), and they had joined the crew. He had taken the liberty of reading her mail, and secured a stake in a mine called the Bone Pit (He'd also found an amusing letter addressed to Carver, which Carver wasn't happy about being told to the odd patron of the Hanged Man). Together, her friends had rallied around doing odd jobs, scrimping and saving, even trying (and failing) to set a Qunari mage free, and together, they had raised enough money to fund the Deep Roads trip, and now all they were waiting for was Hawke.

Felicia beamed at Anders. "Anders, this is great news! Thank you so much. It appears I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing Felicia. It was the least I could do. I..."

"No. I swear it, I shall repay you somehow." Anders grinned.

"Fine, have it your way. But let me finish checking your injuries over first."

Anders leaned close to Felicia, lips pursed in concentration. And ever after, Fellah would never know why she did it. But she kissed him.


	14. Delaying the Deep Roads

It lasted only a few seconds, but those few, glorious seconds would be forever burned into Felicia's mind. For a few seconds Anders joined her in a kiss, but just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended.

"I... should go." Anders said, and muttered something about needing to check on the clinic. He was out of the house before Felicia's bedroom door was even closed. Stunned, Felicia buried her head in her hands.

_What have I done..._

"Hawke?"

"Y's, Var_hic_?"

"I don't think I've seen you drink so much ale in six months, let alone two days. Something you want to talk about?" Felicia shook her head and nearly fell off her chair.

"N'aw."

"Hawke, we need to start the Deep Roads expedition soon, you sure you're up for this right now? I don't want Bartrand to have any excuse to say you can't be a partner, daft nug-humper'll get us all killed without you."

At this, Felicia swivelled round to look at Varric, wobbled, and fell arse over tit onto the floor.

"...M'be it _is_ time I stopped drink'n."

"Couldn't have said it better myself. Want me to ask Fenris to walk you home, Hawke?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"You sure Felicia? You are pretty... pickled."

"'M sure Varric. The good th'ng about drinking for for two days straight, is you feel _hic_ like you're going to die before evening on the second day. So it's _hic_ still daylight." Varric looked doubtfully at Hawke.

"Daylight or no, this is still Lowtown. At least take Isabella with you."

"Fine, fine. Not like I'll be at any less risk of being groped with Izz there..."

"I heard that!" Felicia laughed.

"Come on then Izz. Take me back to Gamlen's house so I can sober up."

"When you say sober up..." Isabella said suggestively. Fellah gave her a look, and Isabella laughed.

"Don't worry. You have my word as a sailor you'll get back safely." Varric grinned at her statement.

"I'd double watch your back now Hawke."

"Oy!" Isabella said indignantly.

"So come on then, Hawke. What's all the moping been about?"

"It's a long story, Izz."

"And I've got a long time 'til my next game of Wicked Grace. So come on then, spill the beans to Auntie Izzy."

"I don't..."

"Spill the beans. To Auntie Izzy."

"I..."

"Beans! Spill! To your favourite Auntie! Now!" Despite herself, Felicia laughed.

"Alright, alright. You'd make a brilliant Auntie. I doubt the parents would think so, but..." Isabella mock-glared at her.

"I happen to be a calming and stabilising influence on children, I'll have you know!" Isabella couldn't keep a straight face any longer than Felicia could. "Heh. So, come on."

"Okay. But let's go up to Hightown. I don't want Varric overhearing and adding it to his tall tales."

Isabella raised her voice over the commotion in the Chantry courtyard. "So, let me get this straight... You thought you were attracted to women, but then you kissed Anders, who told you he was attracted to men, and now you're worried about what's going on with Anders, and you don't know who you are anymore?"

"In a nutshell."

"Oh, kitten this is simple! Leave it all to Auntie Izzy."

"But..."

"But nothing." Isabella said firmly. "All you have to do is avoid Anders for a week or two, let him simmer down, and as for the other thing, it's simple isn't it? You're attracted to both." Fellah blinked.

"I... guess that would make sense. From what I've heard from other women like myself though, erm..." Isabella narrowed her eyes.

"What?" Felicia grinned evilly at Isabella before answering.

"Women who like both are supposed to be... loose in morals."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Isabella laughed.

"It means you're a whoooorrrrrreeee!" Felicia sang, more animated than she'd been in days.

"Well if I'm a whore, so are you!" Isabella replied, swiping the air playfully, but Fellah avoided her nimbly.

"Sluuuuttt slutt slutt slut slut!" She sang cheerfully, attracting the disapproving glances of several people in the Chantry courtyard.

"Come here you!" Isabella growled playfully, shaking a fist and running after her.

"!" Felicia sang, not looking where she was going, instead focusing on Isabella's evil grin.

Which, apparently was there for a reason, as she banged into someone, and fell into a tangle of limbs on the floor.


	15. Awkward Turtle

"Oh, Maker's balls, I'm sorry, I..." In her hurry to get up off the floor, Felicia tripped over in the tangle of limbs again, and landed face to face with Andraste. Or rather, a belt buckle of Andraste. Which meant...

Looking up from the crotch of the man she had careered into, and cursing various obscenities (much to the disapproval of the Chantry types, and approval of Isabella, who by now was all but rolling on the floor laughing), she froze when she came to his face. "I've seen you somewhere."

"You have." The man with Andraste taped to his crotch said.

"Andraste's left tit, where... I don't how how embarrassed to be, give me a clue! Ahh, I recognise your voice but I can't place you. I bet I can place you if you give me a clue." Fellah grinned, trying to make light of the incredibly embarrassing situation. The man tilted his head to one side, equal parts amused and confused.

"A clue you say? I'd be happy to oblige, lass, but I fear if I bet in the Chantry courtyard, I may be chucked out upon a moment's notice."

"Don't be stupid." Felicia said, puzzled. "As if the Maker really cares about a little gambling, when there's rape and murder in the world. Not that He cares about them either... Oh. Shit."

Isabella by now was positively howling with laughter, to the extent that a guard was coming over to her, looking rather pissed off. "Andraste's Ass! You're a Chantry brother. I've heard you read the Chant." Felicia said, her face flushing to beetroot colour. "Oh Maker, and I blasphemed. And I did it again!" Looking around for a means of escape, Felicia took the chance to excuse herself with the excuse that she needed to get Isabella back to the Hanged Man before the guards took her in for breaching the peace.


End file.
